How To Marry a Malfoy
by ArwenSennyo
Summary: Regency DMHG. Draco, 5th Marquis of Malfoy is thoroughly bored with the proper ladies of the Ton. As the heir to a dukedom, he has become an expert on avoiding the marriage trap. But what happens when he wants to do the trapping.
1. Chapter 1

A title.

Fortune.

Looks.

These were attributes that made a man desirable according to the Ton. Draco Lucius Julian Alexander, 5th Marquis of Malfoy, had all three, had them in abundance, and therefore was considered _highly_ desirable among London's elite.

At the age of nine and twenty Draco had a title, a large fortune, extensive property, and exceedingly good looks. He was taller than the average, had a lean frame and rather broad shoulders. His finely chiseled features were set off by locks of white gold, eyes of misty silver, and an aristocratic air. His masculine beauty was matched with a rakish charm that assured the alluring Adonis more than his fair share of feminine attention wherever he went.

In short the Marquis Malfoy was a husband hunter's dream come true - or more precisely - their ultimate prize.

But unfortunately for the matchmaking mamas and incomparable debutantes of the season, the Marquis of Malfoy was most definitely _not_ in the market for a wife. He had the reputation of a notorious rake and he was proud to say that it was well and truly deserved.

Oh he knew he had to marry one day, he had to produce an heir after all, but to Draco that one day was so far away that it barely registered as a speck on the horizon. All in all, it was universally agreed upon by everyone in England – in Europe for that matter – that the Marquis Malfoy was uncommonly blessed.

At the moment however, Draco was feeling anything but blessed.

"I am going to kill you," Draco hissed angrily at his best friend Lord Blaise Zabini.

"Ah…you really don't have to thank me Malfoy. After all I would never forgive myself if I didn't keep you sufficiently entertained on your first night back in town," Blaise whispered good-naturedly, flashing a rakish smile at their audience.

"_Sufficiently entertained!_" Draco gritted through a charming smile, "if you call this entertainment I would hate to see what you call torture." He and Blaise were currently surrounded on all sides by a sea of batting eyelashes and brightly colored muslin.

"Well _I'm_ entertained."

"My Lord, it is _such_ a pleasure to see you again," gushed Lady Parkinson to Draco. "Please allow me to introduce my daughter Pansy. Your mother and I were such good friends you know and I'm sure it was her dearest wish that you and Pansy should know each other."

"My Lord, you look in exceptionally good health this evening. May I introduce my lovely daughters Parvati and Padma," exclaimed Mrs. Patil, as she not-so-discreetly shoved her twin daughters forward.

"My Lord, I understand you just returned from visiting your estate in France. Have you met my niece Miss Lavender Brown? She speaks French fluently you know."

As more "My Lords" vied for his attention and introductions for their daughters, nieces, and other assorted female relations, Draco silently counted to ten and reminded himself that giving Blaise the black eye he so rightly deserved would only cause a scene and draw even more attention. And more attention was not something Draco desired while in Almack's assembly room.

"Do you realized want you have done by dragging me here!" Draco growled as he greeted yet another "jewel" of the season.

Blaise innocent smile was ruined by the spark of mischief clearly present in his dark blue eyes, "Why I've made you the biggest prize of the season of course."

"I'm going to kill you."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter charaters…. etc, etc

Note: Sorry it took so long to update, have been traveling for work. This chapter was suppose to be longer and Hermione was suppose to make her appearance but I haven't quite finished that part so I decided to post and make that part of chapter three.

Chapter 2: Background

"And just where do you think you're going Zabini," Draco demanded half an hour later as he caught the taller man by the shoulder.

His so called _friend_ had abandoned him to the pack of harpies fifteen minutes earlier after dubiously exclaiming something about getting refreshments. Blaise had never returned. Instead Draco had glimpsed a familiar head of glossy black curls inching toward the doorway and escape from the corner of his eye. There was no bloody way Blaise was leaving him behind.

"Draco! I was just heading out for a breath of fresh air, it's quite the crush in here you know!"

"Breath of fresh air my arse –"

"Now, now I don't believe that is the proper language to be using in the company of ladies," Blaise grinned.

"Admit it, you were trying to escape," Draco hissed.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Blaise grinned, "While we're on the subject though, how did _you_ manage to escape."

"Never in a million years would I have ever believed I would be saying this, but thank God for Harry Potter." Draco glanced back over his shoulder at his former fan club. The colorful mob now surrounded a dark haired man with a trademark scar on his forehead.

Harry Potter, the Duke of Gryffindor was probably the only man in all of England that was more sought after than Draco. Draco, Blaise and Potter were all the same age and had attended school together. Due to some rather tragic events, Potter was the youngest Duke in a decade.

Potter was also considered a national war hero. Serving as a spy during the war with France, Potter had collected valuable strategic battle plans that played a crucial role in the ensuing defeat. Potter's hero status served to add fame to his name and value to his stock as a potential husband. For once Draco was grateful for it, it kept the battering eyelashes away from him.

Because of Potter's title and hero status, Draco was forced to be polite, but just barely. Draco had disliked Potter since their school days and the dislike was mutual. But since they both moved in the same circles, they inevitably cross paths and when they met there was only cold nodding civility. Blaise and Potter got on better, since Blaise too had worked for the War Office.

With his jet black hair and emerald eyes, Draco had to admit, _privately_ of course – in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind that would never see the light, that Potter was a han..a hand…(he could do this, gritting his teeth Draco forced himself to finish the thought)… a handsome man - _if_ one liked that type. There he had done it!

But Draco observed with a confident smirk, no one could deny that he himself was handsomer, taller and had much better style than Potter. Draco eyed Potter's cravat critically, you would think that a Duke could afford a decent groom. That cravat knot was utterly last year. And plain black and white, how boring! But then again what else could he expect from ….

"Draco! Are you paying attention?" Blaise's amused voice interrupted his further critique of young duke.

"Sorry I was distracted by Potter's charming attire."

Blaise followed Draco's gaze and swept Potter's figure with a critical eye. Blaise was easily one of best dressed men among the Ton. His clothing was dashing, expensive and always immaculately elegant. "Utterly boring!," Blaise pronounced with a curl of his lip echoing Draco's last thought.

"Yes well, the ladies don't seem too bored. And now that he has their attention what say we make our leave and head to the club?" Draco inquired.

Blaise sighed, "As truly inviting as that sounds, I can't leave yet."

Draco looked surprised, "Why ever not, you seemed eager to escape earlier?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"As I was trying to explain to you while you were so captivated with Potter, I wasn't trying to escape. I was making my way to the entrance so I could get a clear view, I am looking for someone."

"Looking for someone," Draco raised his brows. "Who would you be meeting here instead of at the club?" He waggled his eyebrows and grinned roguishly, "Could it be a lady perhaps? You can tell me, I'm your best friend. Who is this delicate flower that has caught the ever elusive Lord Zabini's attention?"

Blaise hesitated for a moment and then released a long suffering sigh, "I suppose I will have to tell you." He shot Draco an annoyed look, "If I don't you'll probably take it upon yourself to find out anyway. The person I am meeting is indeed a lady – but not the kind that you're thinking of," he added quickly at Draco's leer. Blaise dragged Draco toward the stairs of the entrance. Once there, he release him and scanned the room, "I'm looking for my sister."

"Your sister!" Draco exclaimed, surprised clearly written on his face. Although he had never met Blaise's younger half sister, he was well aware of her existence.

Blaise's father, a well respected lord, also worked for the War Office and perished when his ship overturned during a routine mission when Blaise was eight. Blaise's beautiful mother, the only daughter of a wealthy French Vicount, remarried another English lord two years later. A year after that, Blaise had a new half sister.

Sadly Blaise's new stepfather died six years ago of pneumonia. After the loss of her second husband, his mother decided to move back to her ancestral home and native country taking her young daughter with her. As an independent man, Blaise had no difficulties dividing his time between England and France. A year later, Blaise's mother passed away as well leaving the sole guardianship of his younger sister in Blaise's hand.

Blaise had stepped up to the role and took it very seriously. From what Draco could tell Blaise adored his half sister. He doted on her when she was younger and was still highly protective of her. Whenever Blaise spoke of her, the normally nonchalant look in his eye was replaced with an affectionate gleam.

Blaise had made the conscious decision to let her continue her education abroad instead of returning to England. Blaise had also spent most of the last five years on the Continent with her. Draco had disagreed with Blaise's decision at the time pointing out the unstable political waters of France and Blaise's own involvement with the War Office. Blaise had dismissed his argument with a simple, "She'll be safe enough with me." Draco had let the matter go with little effort; after all it wasn't his sister.

But the war was over now and everything had turned out fine. Draco had been vastly relieved that his best friend, and the closest thing he had to a brother, had escaped the war unscathed. So had his sister.

From the way Blaise spoke of her, Draco surmised that Blaise's sister was quite an independent spirit herself. In fact most of the time when Blaise talked about her, Draco forgot that she was female. Which was why he was so surprised. Blaise always spoke of her as if she were one of his mates, he even called her Hermes. What was her real name again?

Draco frowned, "Your sister, her name's Helen or was it Harmony?"

"Hermione, her name is Hermione." Blaise rolled his eyes, it was typical Draco not to remember a lady's name. "Her-mi-oh-knee," he enunciated very slowly as if speaking to a dimwitted child.

Draco gave him a strange look. He chuckled to himself at the private joke that he knew Draco did not understand.

"Anyway I have decided it is time for her to find husband and get married. She's turning 19; I'm told that's the age when ladies are supposed to be husband hunting."

"Well don't you get any thoughts about me!" Draco exclaimed, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

It was Blaise's turned to look surprised. He was stunned speechless for a long moment before he began laughing hysterically. And loudly.

Draco elbowed sharply in the ribs and gave a furtive glance around. Several heads from neighboring clusters had turned curiously toward them. Lord Zabini laughing hysterically with Marquess Malfoy was certainly not a common sight. A cold glare from Draco sent their heads reeling back around.

"_You_," Blaise choked out, finally getting himself under control. "Why would I have thoughts about you! I certainly don't want her marrying _you_!"

"And just what, may I ask, is wrong with me," Draco looked down his nose at Blaise and crossed his arms imperiously.

"Who are you trying to fool Malfoy? You're not husband material, you couldn't even remember her given name. And may I remind you that you _don't _want to get married."

"I _don't_ want to get married, but if I did I would be considered first rate husband material. I _am _considered first rate husband material." He nodded toward the swarm still surrounding Potter. "Just ask them."

Blaise glanced briefly in Potter's direction. "Well they are welcome to you. And I won't deny that you can have your pick of them, but _I_ don't want you for a brother-in-law. Good lord, I know you too well, it would be a disaster."

Draco's reply was cut off by a clap on his shoulder.

"Malfoy! Zabini! Thank God you're here, I've been bored out of my mind!" a familiar masculine voice greeted them.

They turned to find a cheerful Lord Adrian Pucey entering their small circle. Though he was three years older than Blaise and Draco, the three had met and become friend during their school days. Tall, dark haired, and roguishly handsome, Adrian was a heartthrob among the ladies. His charm was legendary, his mischief-filled green eyes made women swoon, and his wild reputation made them want to tame him.

"Pucey!," Blaise greeted him with a grin. "I didn't know you were in the market for a wife."

Adrian returned the grin. "No, but it never hurts to look! I can't believe you're here though Malfoy, all those fillies and their nags are setting traps with your name on it."

"Blame Blaise, it is entirely his fault that I am here," he glared a Blaise. Blaise smiled and bowed mockingly in return. "Luckily Potter is a sufficient enough distraction."

"Not any more." Adrian nodded toward the dance floor. "He asked one to dance and it looks like the others have set their sights on you again."

Blaise and Draco swung their heads toward the spot that Potter previously filled. It was empty. And the multicolored herd of young women was moving their way.

Draco swore softly, a hunted look on his face. He stooped low and headed toward the nearest door cursing his platinum hair. It was practically a beacon. _Damn it!_ He could already see several heads in the herd scanning the room for his trademark hair. Like moths to a flame. "I hate you Zabini," he muttered as he made a mad dash to freedom.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco sagged with relief as he leaned against the wall in a shadowy alcove. He had escaped. Barely. His current hiding place was down an empty hall and around two corners from the room he had exited. Far enough – for now.

A scowl marred his patrician face with that thought. He would be pursued, no hunted, for the remainder of his stay in town. Bloody hell. And it was all Blaise's fault, damn him! A pox on the whole Zabini line!

Draco had planned to stir clear of town for the Season. He was use to being pursued by women whenever he was in mixed company and he was well aware of the lure of his money and title. There was not one woman in all of England who did not want to become the Marchioness of Malfoy and eventually the Duchess of Slytherin. But Draco was not interested in finding a wife, at least not right now; and even if he were, he knew that he would not be satisfied with the fresh faced flowers that were presented to him annually.

They were all the same - mindless, simpering, boring – only interested in gossip, dresses, and snaring a husband. And lord if they didn't all employ the same tired (and thankfully predictable) tactics when trying to trap him!

No, when he was ready to get married, he wanted – _needed_ something more. Someone one who could keep up with his quick wit and challenge his superior mind, someone who would be an equal partner, not just an ornament on his arm. An ideal soul mate.

His eyes widened. '_Well what do you know, I am a sentimental sap after all."_ He glanced surreptitiously around to make sure no one else had witnessed his epiphany and chuckled at his own absurdity, '_like anyone would ever believe it!'_

But he didn't get to see Blaise often these days. So when his best friend had sent a note saying he would be in town for the Season, Draco was eager to comply. He would have been less eager had he known all the facts! Blaise had deliberately withheld –

A sing-song male voice interrupted Draco's accusing thoughts, "Where you did you go my lovely little dove?"

------

Hermione Granger cringed as she ducked around a corner. _My lovely little dove?_ If this is what she had to look forward to for the rest of the Season, she might as well go back to France now.

From what she had been told, the blond gentleman (and she used the term lightly) that was currently stalking her was supposedly one of England's most eligible bachelors. English standards were apparently very low.

She supposed it was really her own fault. Proper young ladies never slipped out of ballrooms alone, and the ones who did usually did so for less than innocent purposes. But then Hermione had never been content with being a _proper _young lady. Oh she could play the part beautifully and her reputation in society was beyond flawless, but the role bored her.

Just like this tedious ball.

She had been here for over an hour and had not seen hide nor hair of her brother. Lucky for him, because she would've strangled him with his prefect snow white cravat for making her come. And for making Aunt Minerva her chaperone. She loved her aunt, really she did, but the woman was too sharp for her own good. Slipping away from her watchful gaze for even a second had been extremely difficult, which did not bode well for Hermione's plans. Not at all.

He must have seen her leaving, _damn_, and she had been very careful too. If that idiot had noticed her then she seriously needed to brush up on her skills. Disappearing discreetly was supposed to be a particular forte of hers.

"Come now no need to be shy," came the sickly sweet voice from directly behind her. Damn, he was catching up. It was her own fault for not researching the building (and therefore all possible exit routes) but what with all the shopping, dress fittings, and other nonsense that her aunt had planned she had had no time to access Blaise's library. 'Prior planning prevents poor performances' was not her favorite alliteration for nothing.

"The dancing has obviously taken its toll on you, perhaps I could escort you outside for a breath of fresh air—"

Hermione snorted silently. _Not bloody likely._ She checked over her shoulder and saw a masculine shadow fall at the end of the hallway. Curse the man's damnable persistence! Of course the stupid ones _had_ to be the most persistent.

She took a quick assessment of the situation as she continued down the neglected hall. She was in an ornamental hall, one without much use except for connecting other routes. There were no windows but she could see several doors near the end.

Hermione checked behind her again, the new angle of the shadow told her he was about to turn the corner. Damn it all to hell! She would never make it with these wretched full heavy skirts—

A flash of platinum caught Hermione's eye from the behind a large statue a few feet away from her. Her eyes narrowed. She had assumed the shadows behind the statue were caused by the statue itself but upon further inspection the statue appeared to guarding an alcove, a well hidden alcove.

--------------

One day his curiosity would be the death of him, Draco decided when he could no longer resist the temptation to see what was going on.

Draco cautiously peered around the alcove just in time to catch a brief glimpse of russet curls before a decidedly female someone slammed directly into him. Hard.

"Don't be so sly! Come out, come out where ever you are," called the lyrical male voice from just beyond the alcove.

"Blood–" Draco began at the same time, only to be cut off by a pair of lips.

-------------

Hermione's head was still ringing from running into the very solid wall of chest that belonged to the platinum blond gentleman occupying _her_ hiding space. When she heard her pursuer closing in and saw her fellow occupant open his mouth to curse, her instincts quickly took over. She threw her arms around the blonde stranger's neck and pulled his lips down to hers.

-----

To say that he was shocked would have been the understatement of the century. '_Well this is definitely original,'_ was Draco's last coherent thought before he was swept away. The kiss was electrifying, intoxicating – searing him to his very soul.

Draco couldn't believe that a stranger - a stranger that he hadn't even seen properly – was invoking such intense emotions in him. What if she was unattractive, ugly even! What if it was that pug-faced girl he's been introduced to that was stirring these exciting feelings inside him?!

No, no it couldn't be! Although he hadn't gotten a good look at his mysterious kisser, the feel of her body pressed against his, her face beneath his hands and lips, told him in more ways then sight ever could that she was beautiful. A gentle rub of his nose against hers also revealed her nose to be quite small and normal shaped. With that reassuring thought Draco lost himself once again in the kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you so much to all of you who have stuck with this fanfic. I realize the story is moving a bit slow, but I promise that I DO intend to finish it and will post more regularly. This is the first fanfic I have ever written and I am still deciding where to go with the story. I sincerely appreciate all the reviews, those defintely motive me! Love to all my loyal readers.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all the charaters.

Previously...

_Hermione gave a mental sigh of relief. She supposed she should break off the kiss now, pity- the man she was kissing was quite good at it. She could almost lose herself in the searing heat of his soft lips...mmm…maybe she would indulge for just a little longer._

Chapter 4

"Malfoy! What in bloody hell are you doing!" was the roar that split Draco's eardrum before the girl in his arms was ripped from his embrace.

Draco's eyes snapped open and locked onto an incensed Blaise who was looming over him like a death head and who was also unfortunately blocking his view of his mystery kisser. Blaise was standing protectively in front of the girl and all Draco could make out was the top of a cinnamon head.

Although from Blaise's expression he had more pressing things to be worried about at the moment.

With a speed that surprised Draco, Blaise advanced on him until they were toe-to-toe, and his voice, low and dangerous, ground out, "Answer. The. Bloody. Question. _Malfoy_."

Draco gaped at Blaise. He had never seen Blaise truly angry before. His mouth opened to respond but he was promptly cut off.

"Blaise! I've been looking for you all night! Where have you been!"

Blaise whipped around, leaving Draco an unobstructed view of the speaker.

His breath caught. He had been right. Before him stood a vision of luscious curls, luminous skin, and sparkling eyes.

Thick cinnamon curls flowed in a cascading style around a heart-shaped face with high cheek bones and a complexion in full bloom. She had well-defined features, with a dainty nose, rather pouty lips, and large doe-like eyes framed with long dark lashes.

Though the coloring was not considered fashionable (blonde hair and blue eyes were ala mode these days) and the features not traditionally beautiful, no one with eyes could deny that the creature before him was lovely.

What made her truly exquisite was the vibrant expression in her eyes as she glared (was she glaring?)…yes, definitely glaring...at Blaise.

She was also petite, a mere five-foot-three perhaps and Draco's height advantage gave him a delightful view of her décolletage. Her French-style off-the-shoulder periwinkle gown tastefully displayed creamy breasts that were both full and firm. Her slender waist was made even more so by the corseted style of the dress-

"Well are you just going to stand there gawking at me or are you going to actually answer the question?"

Draco's eyes quickly snapped up to her face. He flushed guiltily at being caught so blatantly ogling. However she wasn't looking at him, her attention was still directed at Blaise. _Close call_.

Blaise glowered at her, putting his hands on his hips, "Where have I been, you ask? _Where have I been!_" he ranted._ "I_ have been looking for _you_ all night! And where do I find you? Ruining your reputation by letting MALFOY – _London's most notorious rake_ – kiss you!"

"I'm right here you know!" Draco protested, but was ignored.

"Malfoy?" Hermione murmured thoughtfully, and then brightened with realization. "Oh! This must be the Marquis Draco Malfoy that you are always talking about! And he didn't kiss me, I kissed him so please stop making a scene. And I thought you held the title of London's most notorious rake."

Blaise's spluttered like a fish, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly. Then he regained his composure and pinned Hermione with a hard look, "Do you mean to tell me that you didn't even know who he was before you kissed him!"

"I do believe that should be quite obvious from my previous statement," Hermione replied with a grin.

"Hermione! I am hardly in the mood for your cheek!" Blaise ranted. He began pacing back and forth and emphasizing his words with wild arm gestures. "Why in God's name would you kiss Malfoy! It's just…it's just…unsanitary! I mean, do you have any idea where those lips have been! Not to mention the irreparable damage you could have done to your reputation had anyone else stumbled upon you. This is England, not France…you can't just go around bloody kissing all and sundry…anything is scandal here!"

"There's nothing wrong with my lip!"

"Language Blaise!"

"I'll damn well curse as much as I want-"

"I had no choice but to kiss Lord Malfoy." Hermione sighed, her brother was really overreacting. It was his idea that she come to this ball, and to England, in the first place. He was the one who thought it was time for her to find a husband – despite the fact that she had repeatedly stated the contrary. "I had to kiss him in order to keep him from disclosing my hiding place to that wolf in idiot's clothing who has been stalking me all night, Lord Gilderoy Lockhart."

Blaise abruptly stopped his tirade and blinked and then blinked again digesting this information. Lockhart _was_ pretty bad, he didn't blame her for trying to get away, but still…

"Pardon me?" asked Draco dangerously.

Hermione looked at Draco and really looked at him for the first time. Tall, chiseled features, elegantly athletic frame, and unbelievably blond. Lord Malfoy was handsome, devastatingly handsome – the kind of handsome that made women swoon. Luckily for Hermione, her brother was also devastatingly handsome so she was immune to swooning. That Lord Malfoy was handsome shouldn't have taken Hermione by surprise (she highly doubted Blaise had any ugly friends), but somehow it did and Hermione was so surprised by the fact that said the first thing that popped into her mind, "You don't look like a ferret."

Blaise couldn't help it, for the second time that night laughter burst from him (this really wasn't helping his aloof reputation – even if they were hidden in a side hallway). Blaise didn't miss the fact that his sister's blunt statement meant that besides not knowing the name of the man she had been kissing, Hermione also didn't know what he looked like (he would certainly chew her out for that later) - but the bright red color of Malfoy's face was absolutely, positively priceless! His indignant spluttering was pretty funny too. Blaise had never seen Draco so unnerved and he had no qualms about laughing at Draco's expense. In fact it probably saved Draco from a black eye.

Hermione blushed furiously when she realized what she'd said.

"Of course I don't!" Draco spat

"Of course you don't," Hermione agreed quickly. "I am terribly sorry; I didn't mean to offend you. In fact one might actually consider it a compliment!" Hermione knew she was babbling, she always talked too much and too fast when she got nervous. "It's just that Harry always calls you Ferret-Face you see, so naturally one would assume that there would be a resemblance but there clearly isn't so that's why I was quite surprised-"

Blaise roared with laughter and had to wipe away the tears streaming from his eyes.

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously at his gasping friend.

Hermione fidgeted and opened her mouth to continue, but Blaise was quicker.

Holding up a hand up to halt any comments (and possibly to help stave off his laughter) Blaise collected himself, although he was unable to keep the large grin off his face. "Hermione, may I introduce Lord Draco Malfoy. Draco, my I introduce my darling sister Lady Hermione Granger."


End file.
